


sun, moon, stars (i'm asking them all)

by alaguerre



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Clairvoyant!Chenle, Fluff, Hogwarts with a twist, Humor, M/M, Magic AU, Vampire!Jisung, and a little nomin being whipped for renjun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaguerre/pseuds/alaguerre
Summary: Between dog parks, divination cups, and bubblegum lollipops, Chenle and Jisung find a home in each other.





	sun, moon, stars (i'm asking them all)

 

Two seconds after darting into the library and dropping down at a seat in his corner, Chenle holds a needle uncomfortably close to Renjun’s face. “Fire, please.”

 

He snorts and looks up from his book. “Is that all I’m good for? Sterilization?”

 

“Of course not. You come with a wonderful personality, too,” Chenle beams.

 

At sixteen, Zhong Chenle has managed to perfect the fine art of innocence, and infuriatingly enough, looks the better half of cherubic while he’s at it. He wiggles the needle an inch away from Renjun’s eyes. “I _really_ have to practice divination and I forgot to bring a lighter with me. Please?”

 

Damn him for being soft.

 

“Only because you said please,” Renjun sighs. He pushes his homework to the side - a fire hazard at best - and snaps his fingers, running the small flame between them over the point of the needle and a centimeter down.

 

You’d think he’d help create a beacon of salvation with how Chenle holds it reverently over his head and up to the light.

 

“You’re the best!” he shouts. Renjun blinks. Somehow Chenle’s already halfway out the door.

 

“I know!” Renjun calls after him. He pretends he doesn’t see the pointed glare the librarian shoots him. It’s worth it. There’s a wise Chinese proverb he’s come to know by heart: ‘a good deed a day keeps a Chenle-induced disaster away.’

  
  
  
  


 

Chenle stares at the rippling image of himself reflected in the teacup. Water isn’t the best medium for doing this, he knows, but it’s what he had on hand after being banned from the kitchen since last month’s incident. Apparently dumping a case of tea leaves into scalding hot water isn’t how one brews black tea. Go figure.

 

The classroom he’s chosen resides in the older wing of the school, mostly unused and largely unknown by the general student body. And while it may not have air conditioning or working lights anymore, he’s come to recognize the merits of having no one walk in on him coaxing his life force into a little white china cup.

 

He sits in his favorite desk in the middle of the room, and in front of him sits a small slip of paper with a basic prompting question: _Will I get an A on my ancient runes quiz tomorrow?_ As a second year, he hasn’t had enough experience to divine on command like someone like Kun can, but seeing it on paper helps some.

 

He takes in a deep breath. “Alright Zhong, let’s rock and roll.”

 

With the needle he pricks the pad of his index finger. It still stings a little at first, but he’s done this enough to know the easiest way to draw blood with a minimum amount of pain. He holds his finger over the teacup, waiting until a bead of blood rises to the surface and falls into the water, making tiny ripples before it eddies into nothing.

 

And then he waits.

 

The familiar tugging sensation comes first, like there’s an invisible hand that’s got a grip on the front of his shirt. Then he’s falling. He reminds himself to breathe, knowing the wind he feels push up against his lungs is all part of his imagination, and falls into a tunnel that he imagines is a lot like the one Alice saw on her way to Wonderland. Random images dart by, some clear, some less opaque, moving both too slow and too fast for him to decipher.

 

He keeps the question in his head. _Ancient runes. Quiz. Tomorrow. A?_

 

Suddenly everything seems to stop, and he’s drifting in midair, looking at a paper with his name on it and a red 73 written at the top.

 

“Ah, man,” he whines. As if the invisible hand throws him back, he jolts back into his seat.

 

Dejectedly, he packs up his things, preparing himself for a fun night with him and his copy of _Spellman’s Syllabary_. That’s the up side of the Sight, he guesses. What you see isn’t always what you get; the timeline he saw was one of infinitely many, which could be radically changed at the drop of a pin. And sometimes a C can become a B or an a A if you study hard enough.

 

He forces himself to walk back to his dorm, still pouting and holding the teacup between his hands, when he smacks into someone upon taking one step out of the classroom. He wagers it’s him who emits the dolphin shriek of death as his cup plummets to the floor, but that’s neither here nor there.

 

At the last possible second, the perpetrator saves it, catching it by its handle and handing it to Chenle like he didn’t nearly witness the death of a two-hundred year old relic.

 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the other boy says. “Sorry.”

 

It takes several seconds for Chenle’s last three brain cells to process the fact that yes, the cup _isn’t_ shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, and no, he isn’t going to be skinned alive by Kun. An uncomfortably long silence stretches between them before the boy coughs, snapping Chenle back to the present.

 

Chenle opens his mouth, acutely aware that the past sixteen years have trained him to give this poor fool hell, when he tilts his head up to look at the boy’s face, and oh. That’s a cutie right there.

 

It takes him a second to realize the boy is looking at him expectantly for a response, and yeah, he might be cute but Chenle’s also still recovering from his brush with death.

 

He sniffs, unconsciously cradling the cup closer to his chest. “Whatever, you caught it. It’s fine.” He turns to leave, trying to distance himself from what could only be a Gifted disaster. “Now if you don’t mind, I gotta be somewhere-”

 

“Wait.” The boy grabs his arm. Chenle swallows the urge to bite his hand off. “I - What’s your name?”

 

“It’s Chenle.”

 

“Chenle,” the boy says, repeating the syllables hesitantly. “I’m Jisung. You…wouldn’t know where Astronomy is, would you?”

 

Anyone who’s spent more than a month at the academy knows where Astronomy is. Chenle quickly looks at Jisung’s lapel. The yellow pin says he’s a first year.

 

And okay, it’s all starting to come together.

 

The more he looks at the pin, Chenle can’t help feel a little bad that he directed his passive aggression onto a first year during the first semester. He’s probably as lost as Chenle was when he first came to Sooman’s. He sighs.

 

“Go down the hall, take a left, up the stairs, take another left, and it’s the third classroom on the right.”

 

Chenle can’t help but throw him a half-smile. “Well, Jisung, it was nice and all, but I hope I we never meet like this again.”

 

Jisung rubs the back of his neck and returns a sheepish smile. “Yeah, me too.”

  
  
  
  


 

He doesn’t see Jisung for the next two weeks, too busy trying to pass his classes and keep Mark and Yukhei from sucking each other’s faces off in the common room.

 

When he finally has an hour to himself, he snatches it. He finds himself back in the same empty classroom, wiping the blood from his finger on a tissue and closing his eyes. He feels the barest hint of a tug, just barely on the cusp of the dive when he hears a quiet scuffle by the door. Probably just someone taking a shortcut to their class. He sinks back, trying to get his breathing back on track, when he feels eyes on him and _wow_ , that’s not distracting and creepy at all.

 

He opens his eyes only to find a head of blonde hair peeking through the doorway. Jisung, upon locking eyes with him, freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

“Uh, hi,” Chenle says. He raises a hand in greeting.

 

“Hey.” Jisung, an abundance of awkward gangly teenager, makes no move to leave the doorway.

 

A long, pregnant silence settles between them. Chenle looks at the seat beside him, and then back to Jisung. Is he going to regret this? Probably.

 

“Do you wanna come in, and like, watch?” He tries not to shrivel under the stunned look Jisung gives him. “There’s no light show or anything and it’s not all that exciting, but I mean, you’re welcome to. If you want, you know-”

 

“Okay,” Jisung says. Chenle blinks. That was less painful than he thought. He waits until Jisung shuffles in and slips into the seat next to him.

 

Chenle looks at his needle, sitting on its cloth in the corner of the desk. “You’re not scared of blood or anything, right? I just need to prick myself again real quick.”

 

This, at least, gets Jisung to laugh quietly to himself. “No, definitely not scared.”

 

“Great,” Chenle says, relieved. “When I get enough experience, I’ll be able to see without all this, but I need it to concentrate the Sight for now.” He cocks his head. “Before I start, I _was_ going to ask what kind of dogs are gonna be at the dog park tomorrow, but is there anything you want to know? Within the next three days would be cool.”

 

Jisung thinks for a second. “Could you ask if I’m getting a package? My mom sent me a new screensaver in the mail since I cracked mine.”

 

“Sure.” He flips the slip of paper in front of him to its back and jots down ‘package, screensaver, arrive.’ As gently as he can, he digs the needle into the spot he punctured a couple minutes ago, dropping a bead of blood into the water and wiping the excess back off on the tissue. For a split second, he watches Jisung stare almost forlornly at the tissue, which is a different kind of weird altogether, but suddenly he’s feeling the tug and he lets himself drift.

 

As he’s freefalling, images drag to the forefront of his eyes. A small parcel. Large, fine boned hands. Jisung’s? Another image. Yikes.

 

He jolts back, neary scaring Jisung out of his seat.

 

“Your screensaver comes tomorrow night at seven, but it’s for the regular sized iPhone, not the Plus.”

 

Jisung groans with his whole body. Chenle winces and pats his arm.

 

“...That’s it. Let it out, tiger.”

  
  
  
  


 

They’re packing up their things when Chenle sneaks a look at Jisung. “Can I ask you something, Jisung?”

 

“Sure?”

 

“Not that I don’t thrive under an audience, but how come you were watching me earlier?” When Jisung freezes in place he adds, “I’m not mad or anything, just curious. You weren’t lost, were you?”

 

Jisung stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking at a spot on the floor when he finally speaks. “You have singing blood.”

 

Chenle cocks his head, hand thrust into the bowels of his backpack. “Singing blood?”

 

“Yeah. All clairvoyants have it. It sings to us. I…We’re born to gravitate towards it.”

 

It clicks. “You’re a vampire?”

 

Even after growing up in a Gifted metropolis like Shanghai, Chenle could probably count the number of vampires he’s met on a single hand. They’re a dying breed, one had told him, their numbers down to the thousands now that fertility rates were on the decline.

 

Jisung shrugs, trying to fight the urge to look smaller. “I get it if you don’t want me here-”

 

Chenle throws a brief look over his shoulder. “Nah, I don’t care.” He turns back to the more pressing matter at hand. “Now where did I put my….”

 

Jisung blinks. “Huh?”

 

“Aha!” Chenle’s fingers close around a lollipop. He looks back at Jisung, fishing for another. “My best friend is an eastern dragon, and my mentor’s three hundred years old. I don’t think vampires are all that weird.”

 

He watches the tension Jisung’s been holding in his shoulders leave him. Jisung ducks his head. “Oh, well, that’s great to hear. I mean,” he smiles, “really great. Really.”

 

“Cool.” He holds his arm out. Bubblegum, Chenle’s favorite. “You want one?”

 

Jisung scrunches up his nose, and it’s probably in the top ten most adorable things Chenle’s ever seen. “No thanks.”

  
  
  


 

 

The second the professor dismisses them, Jaemin slings an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “You down for game night tonight at Hyunjin’s, Ji?”

 

Jeno snorts, nudging Jaemin playfully. “You really do have the attention span of a squirrel. He’s studying in the library, remember?” More like an abandoned classroom, but Jisung doesn’t bother correcting him.

 

Jaemin blinks slowly like he’s processing the information. Jisung watches in pure trepidation as a knowing smile spreads across the daemon’s face. “Jisung-ah, is this, perhaps, a study date?”

 

Jisung smothers a choice word under his breath. Of course Jaemin would guess that. They all grew up together - at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if Jeno or Jaemin knew more about _him_ than he did himself. He crosses his arms defensively. “So what if it is?”

 

“Do we know them?” At this, Jeno looks at him expectantly, too. Great. He’ll never hear the end of it.

 

“He’s a second year.”

 

“What does he look like?”

 

“Blond hair and squishy cheeks.”

 

Jaemin pouts. “That could be anyone, Mochi. Give us a lil’ more than that.”

 

Jisung gives a long suffering sigh and scuffs his shoe on the marble. “I don’t know. When he smiles his eyes turn up at the corner like this.” He mimics crescents, cringing when he knows he can’t even try to do them justice. “And he’s a little short, but like, the huggable short....His accent, too, is actually a little-” He coughs. “Fuck you.”

 

Jaemin’s laugh can be heard from down the hall. Jisung stalks off, face burning, but not before he watches Jaemin wipe away invisible tears, sniffling into Jeno’s collar about ‘our kid being all grown up.’

  
  
  
  
  


Thursday afternoon divination sessions start becoming their thing. Somewhere past awkward silences and stilted conversation, they fall into something natural that Chenle would maybe call friends. And if someone (namely Renjun) was to question why Chenle always seem a little more chipper on Thursdays, that’s none of their business.

 

It’s only after the fifth time that they find out that they have mutual acquaintances. Chenle’s slumped over his desk, too lazy to go back to the dorm for the lighter he’s forgotten again, listening to Jisung rant something about how his friends treat him like a baby despite the fact that he could _step_ on them, dammit.

 

“Jaemin and Jeno…” Chenle pretends to think for a second, for effect. “They’re third years, right? The ones that crashed the shopping cart off of Blue Tower last month? And are somehow still alive?”

 

“Yeah, that’s them.” Jisung props his chin on his hand. “Jeno did some wizard magic to make it look more impressive than it actually was. And when Headmaster Sooman chewed them out for it Jaemin said they needed to impress their crush before the September equinox. Huang Renjun?”

 

Chenle nearly chokes on his own spit. “ _Renjun?”_

 

He slaps his hands on the table like an over-excited seal. “You’re serious? Really, really serious? Huang Renjun, third year transfer student? Kinda skinny and small but also like, unfairly pretty?”

 

“That would be him.”

 

He claps his hands together, unable to contain the crazed laugh that bubbles up his throat. “Wait till I tell him, he’ll have a stroke! He’s had a crush on them for like, months.”

 

 _“Please,”_ Jisung groans. “I’ve had enough of the pining. Every other conversation’s basically, ‘Renjun looks stunning in blue.’ ‘Renjun smiled at me in Herbology today.’ ‘Imagine being the most beautiful boy in the world. Imagine being Renjun.’ Just. End it all, please.”

 

A light goes off in his head. “You know what we’ve got to do, then, don’t you, Jisung?”

  
  
  
  
  


The next lunch finds Chenle sitting with the usual suspects. He catches Jisung’s eyes from where he’s lingering by the hall’s doors and flags him down.

 

“Aw, Chenle, is that your new friend?” Donghyuck croons. He turns in his seat and squints. “Oh hey, look, Jeno and Jaemin are with him.”

 

Renjun manages to lose all color in his face in the span of two seconds. He moves to stand up. “I’m suddenly remembering that I need to speak to Professor Oh about my thesis-”

 

Chenle grabs his arm and tugs him back down. “Oh no you don’t.”

 

What unfolds in the next few minutes might just be the most painful exchange Chenle’s ever been forced to witness in his short, miserable sixteen years of life. Jisung slides into the seat next to him, leaving the only empty spaces directly across from Renjun.

 

“H-hi, Renjun.”

 

“Hey, Injun.”

 

Maybe this was a mistake.

 

Renjun does that hair tuck behind the ear thing for when he gets flustered, and Chenle thinks if Jeno and Jaemin stare harder the school might implode on itself. “Hi Jeno, hi Jaemin.”

 

Kill him. This was definitely a mistake.

 

Donghyuck coughs. “Right, so. Welcome to our table, where the decibel level is three times higher than what the human ear can physically tolerate.”

 

Chenle sticks his hand out for Jaemin and Jeno to shake. “I’m Chenle! I’m in my second year and some day I’ll be able to tell how everyone at this table dies.”

 

Jaemin smile drops. “Second year?”

 

Jeno squints at him. “Squishy.”

 

They exchange a look, completely oblivious to the bewilderment in the air. _“Blond,”_ they say together.

 

The next thing Chenle knows, Jeno and Jaemin are rising out of their seats and holding Chenle’s head against their chests. “Welcome home, son,” Jaemin sniffs, petting his hair.

 

“Um, thanks!...Dad?” Chenle squeaks. He shoots a panicked look towards Renjun that he hopes conveys, _“These? These are your men?”_  and to which Renjun returns with an equally perplexed gawk. He turns his head to look at Jisung only to find him pointedly looking away, ears redder than a ripe strawberry.

 

“Sorry I’m late guys, I had to-” Mark surveys the scene in all its emotionally constipated glory. “Uh, what’d I miss?”

 

There's only one way he sees to salvage the situation.

 

“I think the real question is,” he sucks in a breath, “WHAT ARE THOOOSE!”

 

A beat of silence. Then chaos.

 

 _“You know damn well Professor Cho only accepts Crocs in the greenhouse,”_ Mark hisses over the collective scream. Donghyuck falls to the floor howling. Renjun cackles, and Jeno and Jaemin look like they’ve seen an angel.

 

He gets a text from Jisung.

 

**To: Chenle**

From: Jisung

 

Not all heroes wear capes  d(･∀･○)

 

**To: Jisung**

From: Chenle

 

count it as yet another win for norenmin nation

  
  
  
  


 

The next time they meet for divination, Chenle takes one look at Jisung’s face right before he picks up the tissue to wipe the blood away. In the past few weeks, they’ve grown closer than what Chenle could have ever expected, so he doesn’t really feel that weird holding his finger out to him.

 

“You wanna lick it?”

 

Jisung makes a garbled sound in the back of his throat that Chenle didn’t think was humanly possible. He wiggles his index in front of Jisung’s face. “It’s not getting any fresher, Park.”

 

“Fine!” Jisung grabs his wrist. “Just stop moving.”

 

He stares at it for a long minute. “This is so gross. You’ve got to know that on a microbial level hands are kind of disgusting.”

 

Chenle retracts his finger. “Wow, and here I was thinking-”

 

Jisung tugs it back. “I’m not _not_ going to do it, though.”

 

If anyone asked him, the next few seconds are like something out of a train wreck - disastrous, but so much so that it’s hard to look away. Chenle has to squash the urge to squeal when Jisung quickly runs his tongue over the pad of his finger, because ew, it’s wet and a little gross, but the look on the other boy’s face when he pulls back says it all.

 

“You taste like bubblegum.” Jisung bangs his head on the table. “I hate bubblegum.”

 

Chenle laughs. “That’s my favorite flavor, though?”

 

Slowly, like it brings him great pain, Jisung lifts his head and looks at him. “Let me taste it one more time. Maybe the second time around’ll be better.”

 

Chenle brings his finger back, only for Jisung to lick it again and make the same face.

 

“This world is cruel and nothing matters in the grand scheme of death.”

  
  
  
  


 

(“Hey, Jisung, catch!”

 

Jisung squints at him from across the hall, iced coffee in one hand. “Catch what?”

 

“Me!” Chenle takes a running start and launches himself at Jisung.

 

Jisung only has a second to set his coffee to the floor before he has his arms full of Chenle, and wow, for someone so tiny he weighs _so much_.

 

“You really caught me!” Chenle throws his head back and cackles. “I can’t believe you did it!”

 

Jisung can only sigh. “You are _so_ lucky I like you.”

 

Chenle smiles, and it’s the kind that makes his eyes turn into crescents and turns him into the sun itself. He reaches up and pokes at Jisung’s cheek. “I like you, too.”)

  
  
  
  


 

Renjun looks at the two of them with poorly concealed amusement. He has his bag slung over his shoulder and his hair is still windswept from his _\- totally not a date, Chenle_ \- walk with Jeno and Jaemin. Chenle has his hand laced with Jisung’s over the table, tapping a soft beat onto the other’s knuckles. “So kids, who’s the big spoon?”

 

Chenle looks ecstatic. “Me.”

 

A garbled sound pushes out of Renjun’s throat. “Oh my god, I didn’t think you actually-”

 

Jisung shrugs, reaching over and flipping Chenle’s page for him. “He likes feeling big.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Jisung, c’mon, we’re gonna miss a hecka cute one if you don’t hurry up!”

 

It’s a beautiful afternoon to visit the dog park together - or, at least that’s what Chenle’s been saying ever since he got a vision two days ago. Five minutes in, and there are already three large dogs swarming Chenle, and he thinks Chenle might just be in heaven.

 

Jisung, for one, is not a dog person. His mom has a theory about it; something having to do with the magic in his blood having a repulsion with the magic in dogs’ blood (there’s no plausible way dogs can make people so happy without a little magic to it), but he’s not sure he can buy into that just yet. And so, he opts for observing from the sidelines, content with watching Chenle getting mobbed by more dogs, and getting his own yips from a Chihuahua circling his ankles.

 

By the time they leave, Chenle’s hair is in all states of disarray and Jisung contends that his shirt has the slobber of at least ten dogs on it, but he’s beaming and it might be the most brilliant thing Jisung’s ever seen.

 

Chenle grabs onto him and links arms together. “Dogs are great, aren’t they, Jisung?”

 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “They are.”

  
  
  
  
  


He sighs and lays his head on the table. “Why’s astrology so boring?”

 

Renjun doesn’t bother looking up from his textbook. “It’s not boring. You just don’t have patience for things that don’t involve instant gratification.”

 

“I’ll show you instant gratification,” Chenle grumbles, reaching out to snag a gummy bear from Renjun’s pack.

 

Renjun slaps his hand. “Bad.”

 

The second their hands touch, Chenle feels the same tug he does when he’s divining, and suddenly he’s looking at an image of Renjun sandwiched between Jeno and Jaemin in a tiny café, all three sharing a bowl of bingsu and _bleh_ , hopelessly in love. Quickly, he searches the corner of the vision for a clock, or a calendar, or anything, and he finds it on the top of the blackboard menu at the front counter.

 

He jolts back. Renjun looks back at him with wide eyes. “What did I just watch?”

 

“I think…” Chenle feels his face. Is this even real? “I think I just used the Sight without the cup.”

 

Renjun shoots up from his seat and grabs him in a bear hug. “Chenle, that’s-!” He holds him out by his shoulders. “You need to tell Kun. You need to. I think he might cry.”

 

“I’ll do it tonight,” Chenle promises, “but first.” He looks Renjun in the eye. “Sunday afternoon. Clear out your schedule. And wear your cute blue button down. Don’t ask questions.”

  
  
  
  


 

“Mom!”

 

“I’m telling you, it’s _Dad-_ ” Kun barely has time to process Chenle barreling towards him until he’s jumping onto him, crawling up Kun’s back like the world’s largest spider.

 

“Renjun’s bullying me,” he whines into Kun’s shoulder.

 

“I’m not!” Renjun shouts from the other end of the hall. “He literally just pushed me down the last four stairs! I could have died!”

 

It’s almost reflex to reach over his shoulder and ruffle Chenle’s hair. The second his fingertips make contact, the Sight takes over, replaying Chenle maniacally laughing and bumping Renjun down the stairs with his butt. Kun sighs. Typical.

 

“I think it’s only fair that Renjun gets to…” he has to think of the word, “bubblebutt you back.”

 

“No!” Chenle screeches. “He’s too bony! I’ll _die,_  Kun!”

 

Quicker than Kun has ever seen Chenle move before, he drops from Kun’s back and takes off down the hall.

  
  


 

 

He just rounds the corner when he runs headlong into a brick wall. Or what he thinks is a brick wall, if brick walls could go, “Ow, what the hell-”

 

Jisung blinks. “Lele? What are you doing running around-?”

 

“Come back here, roach!” Renjun shouts somewhere further down the corridor. The sound of footfalls grows louder. “Retribution is at hand!”

 

At the sound of a petty Renjun, Chenle’s age old instincts kick in and he grabs Jisung’s hands, pulling him into a dead sprint with him all the way to the abandoned wing and into their room. He thinks Renjun passes by there, but he isn’t sure, especially when Jisung looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.

 

“What was that about? Why is he mad at you?”

 

Chenle purses his lips. “Unimportant.” He leans up closer to Jisung. “What are _you_ doing around East Wing, Park Jisung?”

 

Jisung rubs his neck. Chenle thinks his eyes might be playing tricks on him, but even in the dim light, he can just make out the barest dusting of color in his cheeks. “I was trying to find you.”

 

It’s a neutral statement really. His heart doesn’t do a stupid summersault. It doesn’t. “Yeah? What for?”

 

Jisung’s refusing to look at him. “You can see into the future, right?”

 

Oh.

 

He quells the hope that had been rising in his chest. Of course, it wasn’t going to be _that_. He rolls his eyes playfully. “Thought we established this, but yes, I can.” He’s halfway there, after all. “Is there something you need to see?”

 

Jisung ducks his head and mumbles something Chenle can’t catch.

 

He frowns. “Uh, sorry?”

 

“Chenle, can you see…” Jisung takes in a deep breath, like he’s steeling himself. He tilts his head to look him in the eye, uncharacteristically bold despite the trembling in his hands.

 

“Can you see a future where you go on a date with me this Friday?”

 

And _oh_ , that definitely makes his heart jump.

 

Chenle tilts his head, pretending to think.

 

It’s not very hard. Not hard at all. In fact, it might be the easiest reading he’s ever had to do.

 

He looks at Jisung, and grins.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I can.”

 

Jisung grins back.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> did someone say chensung? the most wholesome dynamic?
> 
>  
> 
> cc: [peachmotion](https://curiouscat.me/peachmotion)  
> twt: [rjlovebot](https://twitter.com/rjlovebot)


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